A house without books
Is like a room without windows...
I love to read. I love it. I love books. Big books. Small books. Medium books. Old books. New books. Middle age books. Books, books, books...My house is filled with them. The walls are lined with bookshelves that are overflowing with, well, books. I have books stacked on the floor by my bed, next to the night stand because the night stand is already wedged full of them. They are stacked next to the computer, on tables, chairs, the toilet. I have boxes of books in the basement that I do not have room for, but one day hope to . I have visions of the library I will one day have (after I win the lotto)...red cherry wood bookshelves, floor to ceiling shelves complete with those rolling ladders so I can reach the top. A heavy roll-top desk, big picture windows...sigh. Anyway...
My grandpa, "poppy", was also a book lover and before he died, he gave me all his books. I now have a huge collection of old collectible books, some worth some good money. I even have textbooks from the late 1800s/early 1900s that are still in the orginal wrapper and box that they were packaged in, which is amazing.
There are first editions, children's books, prayer books, school books, hymn books, books in German. There's a set of well-loved Zane Grey books that aren't worth the frayed bindings that barely hold them together, but looking at them make me smile. I see them and I envision Poppy's old, veined hands holding them, his face one of concentration.
Because of my love of books and the memories that they can carry, I'm boycotting the Kindle. Even if I could afford one, I wouldn't want one. There's just something magical about a "flesh and blood" book. Something tactile and real, something that technology just shouldn't mess with.
And now comes the point of this post...
My new addiction has taken me away from my love of books. It has stolen my soul.
I haven't read a book since I bought this game. I used to stay up after the kids went to bed and read. I used to read several books a month. Not anymore. I play Scrabble on my DS. The scary part is that the game keeps track of the hours that you play. I'm not going to say just how many hours I've played. I'm pretty sure that it's wrong anyway. It must take the actual hours you play and then multiply by three. Or five. Or six. But either way, that's a lot of hours I should have been sleeping. No wonder I'm so tired when the sun comes up. I can't even blame it on good literature.
I blame it on technology. What is this world coming to? Someone, help me, please, I beg you. Recommend the best book you've ever read. Order me to read it. Wrench me away from this terrible game and let me read again! I want to be free! Free, I tell you! Free!